


Date Night

by katedf



Category: Death in Paradise
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-09-01
Packaged: 2017-12-24 16:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/941916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katedf/pseuds/katedf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the night of the Erzulie celebration. Camille has a blind date, Fidel and Juliet have a romantic dinner planned, and Richard spends the evening with a much younger woman. But his thoughts are all about Camille. Post-ep for 2.1</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Erzulie

**Author's Note:**

> We're getting reruns, so I saw episode 2.1 again last night. It has some out-of-character moments that imply a closeness between Richard and Camille, like when she wipes some dust off his cheek and he says "Thank you" as if it's the most natural thing in the world. And the ending is so sweet, I thought they deserved an extension to the story.

When Fidel and Richard arrived at the house, Juliet was ready to leave.

“Thank you for doing this, sir,” said Juliet. “She’s freshly fed and changed, so she should be down for a few hours. If she wakes, she may go back to sleep again in about a minute. But if she’s fussy, just hold her and talk to her, and she’ll go back to sleep.”

Richard looked panic stricken, and Juliet laughed softly. “It’s all right. She’ll sleep. And there’s a neighbor’s number on the pad in the kitchen, just in case Uncle Richard gets nervous.”

He smiled and nodded. “Enjoy your date.”

Fidel and Juliet left, and Richard settled in with his book. He read for a few minutes and looked up. No sound from the baby. That was good. He went back to reading.

-o-o-o-o-

“Ohh, this is lovely,” said Juliet. “We rarely get to go out, just the two of us.”

“It is nice,” said Fidel. “It was kind of the Chief to babysit. I still can’t believe Catherine talked him into it.”

“He’s a good man. The best Chief you’ve had. He put you forward for a promotion, which will get you a raise. He’s funny. He seems so apart from everyone but he does these kind things.”

“I know. He’s a bit of a mystery sometimes.”

“Maybe it’s because he’s English.”

Fidel laughed. “That’s what Camille says. But we didn’t come out to dinner to talk about my work. We should talk like dating couples do.”

“Do you remember how to do that?”

Fidel looked at Juliet blankly for a moment. Then he said, “Oh my God, I can’t remember! We spend so much time talking about Rosie that I can’t remember what it was like to just think about us!”

-o-o-o-o-

Richard read for a while longer. Then he listened for sounds from Rosie’s bedroom. Should she be so quiet? Maybe he should look in on her. So he put the book down and went into her room. He watched her sleep for a while. God, she was small! Bigger than when he’d held her the day she was born but still little. He’d faced down killers many times, but holding a newborn was one of the most frightening things he’d ever done. How did parents manage to take of such a tiny being? Juliet said if she cried he should pick her up and hold her. How could he do that? What if he dropped her? What if he made her sick up? 

“Do Uncle Richard a favor, Rosie, and sleep well,” he whispered.

-o-o-o-o-

Juliet reached across the table and took a spoonful of Fidel’s banana ice cream.

“Now there’s a part of our dating days I remember,” he said. “You always were a dessert thief.”

“Taste some of mine, then,” said Juliet, holding out a spoonful of her coconut-rum ice cream.

“Mmm, good. Remember when we were dating how we’d order a huge dessert and share it? And the sounds you would make over chocolate!”

“I make those sounds for other reasons now,” Juliet said with a lift of her eyebrows.

“Well then, let’s finish dessert and go home.”

-o-o-o-o-

Richard read for a while, then checked on Rosie again. She was still sleeping peacefully. _Good girl,_ he thought. He looked at his watch. Fidel and Juliet would be home soon. This babysitting thing wasn’t so scary, after all. 

He read just a few more pages, and then Rosie began to make whimpering sounds. He looked at his watch. Tick, tick, tick, thirty seconds, and the fussy noises were getting louder. 

Forty-five seconds, and she hadn’t quieted. 

Sixty seconds. Nope, he was going to have to do something. 

He stood beside the crib and looked down. Even his unpracticed eye could see that she was working herself up to a loud wail.

“Hi, Rosie. Do you remember Uncle Richard?” 

She looked up at him and he could swear she was doing the “mental Rolodex” thing, trying to figure out how she knew him. She’d seen him only a few times, and he’d held her only that one time, so he didn’t really expect her to remember him. Still, she must have decided he wasn’t an ogre, because she didn’t scream. 

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” He reached out and her flailing hand caught his finger. That seemed to interest her for a while, so he watched her explore his hand. He felt her tug it toward her face.

“Ohhh, nonono. You mustn’t bite me, Rosie. It wouldn’t be good for your father’s career if I arrested you for assaulting a police officer.”

It was probably just hearing his voice and being distracted by the sound, but she gave up her attempt to gum his finger. 

He retrieved his hand, and she started to make fussy noises again. 

-o-o-o-o-

As they walked to their car, Fidel checked his watch.

“Are we late?” asked Juliet.

“Just a little. I hope he’s all right.”

“You mean you hope Rosie is all right.”

“No, I’m sure she is. But the Chief was a little nervous. Oh, I forgot to tell you what happened earlier. When I went out on the patio to pick him up, Camille was sitting with him.”

“I thought she had a date.”

“So did she.”

“What? You mean she thought _he_ was her date?” 

“I think so. She looked confused when I showed up, and then Catherine chased her over to her date. For a moment, I thought if she’d been given the choice, Camille would have stayed with the Chief.”

“No! You tell me they argue all the time.” Juliet shook her head in disbelief.

“They do argue a lot. But there are moments between the fights. And tonight, he had this, I don’t know, _thoughtful_ look on his face. Like he’d finally figured out Camille’s mistake and was maybe thinking he didn’t want it to be a mistake.”

“Must be Erzulie at work.”

-o-o-o-o-

“Well, isn’t this a fine turn of events,” said Richard. “I don’t mind dating a younger woman, but I think this is going to the extreme. No offense, but you do know that you’re too young for me, right?”

Rosie looked up at the man who was speaking. She didn’t have any idea what he was saying, but his arms were comfortable and he had the rocking chair going at a nice slow rate. 

Happy that Rosie had stopped whimpering, Richard continued, “I mean Camille is too young for me, too, but at least she’s an adult. Well, some of the time. You know what your Auntie Camille is like. She can be so _French!_ And your Auntie Catherine, well, she’s completely French so enough said there.”

Rosie found Richard’s tie and began to chew on it. _Better than my finger,_ he thought. “Auntie Camille had a date tonight. For a few minutes, she sat with me. It was as if I was her date. But then your Daddy came and I had to leave. I didn’t get a good look at him. The date, I mean, not your Daddy. But I bet he was tall, young, and handsome. He seemed to have all his hair, too.”

Rosie stopped chewing for a moment, and Richard extracted his wet tie from her mouth. She screwed up her face to cry, so he gave in and let her have his finger. 

“Promise your Uncle Richard something? When you’re a grown up beautiful woman, don’t just go after the obvious ones. You know, tall, handsome, athletic, charming. Promise me you’ll look past them at the ordinary men. They’re capable of love, too. More than you might expect.”

-o-o-o-o-

When Fidel and Juliet walked into the house, Richard was nowhere to be seen.

“It’s quiet.” Fidel whispered. 

Juliet tiptoed to Rosie’s room. She looked in, and turned to Fidel. She put her finger to her mouth and then gestured for him to look. The Chief was sitting in the rocking chair, with his back to the door, holding their daughter and speaking softly. It sounded as if he was talking about… Camille? 

They crept away and Juliet blinked back tears. “He’s so sweet!” she whispered.

Fidel walked back to the front door, opened and closed it, then called softly, “Chief?”

“In here,” came the whispered reply.

Juliet smiled down at Richard and reached for Rosie.

“Careful,” he whispered, momentarily forgetting that Juliet handled this baby all the time. “I just got her back to sleep.”

Rosie made little random sounds and then settled into her mother’s arms.

“Thank you,” said Juliet,

“It was fine. She woke only about fifteen minutes ago. I talked to her. Probably bored her back to sleep.” Richard smiled his half-smile and added, “Someday, if I live to be an old codger, I’ll be able to brag about the night I had a date for the Erzulie festival with a much younger woman.”

As they walked out to the car, Fidel said to Richard, “Don’t worry, Chief. Maybe next year Erzulie will find you a better date.”


	2. Musings

From his veranda, Richard could see the lights of Honoré as the Erzulie festival continued into the night. Fidel had driven him home. Maybe he should have asked for a ride into town, although what he’d do there he couldn’t imagine. Camille would probably be annoyed and accuse him of spying on her. 

Or would she? Things were changing between them. They were getting used to each other, more in sync. There were little things, like the way she’d remembered his briefcase when he’d forgotten it. After he’d crawled through the tunnel, she’d helped brush the dust off his jacket. And back at the station, she stopped and wiped a bit of dust off his face. Just the lightest touch, and it didn’t really mean anything. He knew that, but to someone who didn’t ordinarily like to be touched, it felt almost intimate. 

And tonight she was on a blind date. Richard had looked at her as she sat down with her date on the patio. Before that, she’d sat at his table. Had she thought _he_ was her date? Of course! That’s why she had been confused when Fidel arrived. She thought Richard was her date, and wonder of wonders, she hadn’t run away. If he _had_ been her blind date, would she have gone out with him? What would it have been like?

If he asked her for a date, what would she say?

-o-o-o-o-

From her house up the hill above the town, Camille could hear the music of the Erzulie festival. Her date had been pleasant enough. Chatting over dinner, joining in the dancing in the street. But she’d told Roger she had to be home early because she had to go to work the next morning. She’d almost called Roger _Richard_ once or twice. Maybe she actually had. What did that mean?

She thought about Richard. Things were changing between them. They still bickered about cases, and the French-English comments continued, but it felt different. They had a rhythm and a pattern of behavior between them. The arguments were like volleys in tennis, wisecracks lobbed back and forth for fun, never hitting so hard the other didn’t have a comeback. No longer did they go for that hard overhand smash designed to annihilate the other. 

She was softening, she knew that. And he was less spikey. Just this afternoon, she’d brushed dust off his jacket, and later wiped a remaining trace of dust off his face. He didn’t swat her hand away; he let her touch him. Richard was gradually lowering his defenses.

This evening, she’d thought he was her date. Her first thought was surprise that Maman would set her up with Richard, of all people. But that reaction was immediately followed by a sense of pleasure tinged with curiosity. She was happy he was her date, but she wondered what it would be like. Gentleman that he was, he’d stood when she walked to the table. He’d said she looked stunning. He looked at her like, well, not the way he did at work. Like a _woman,_ not his sergeant. 

But he wasn’t her date. Roger was. As she sat down at Roger’s table—and it just struck her that Roger had _not_ stood up—she’d glanced at Richard. He looked as if he wanted to say something. Did he wish he were her date? Maybe tonight would give him an idea. 

Would he ask her for a date? If he did, she’d definitely say yes.

-o-o-o-o-

The next morning, Camille arrived at the station early. Richard was already there. 

“Good morning,” she said, carefully sounding cheerful but not so cheerful that he’d think her date had been fabulous.

“Good morning, Camille. You’re bright this morning.”

“Yes, well, I made it an early night last night. Dwayne was still dancing when I went home. I suspect he’ll be wanting his coldpack from the fridge this morning. How was your evening?”

“Fine. Rosie slept almost the entire time. She woke up and we had a chat. She didn’t have a lot to say, probably not interested in what I had to say. And then Juliet and Fidel got back and he drove me home.”

Camille smiled, “So you had an early night, too.”

“Well, you know, my date was _very_ young. If it had been, um, someone, um, well, not an infant… you know, I might have been out later.” Something in the way Camille was looking at him gave Richard the courage to continue. “Camille, last night, did you think I was your blind date?”

“Yes. Maman said he was on the patio, and I saw you sitting there. And then you said it was Maman’s idea…” _and the way you looked at me…_

“I don’t think your mother would ever set us up.” _I wish someone would._

“I suppose not. That’s why I was surprised.”

“You hid it well. You even smiled.”

“I said surprised, Richard. Not disappointed.”

They stood there, looking at each other for a full minute. Then Richard took a deep breath.

“Camille, if I were to ask…”

“Good morning!” Fidel called as he walked into the station.

Camille saw Richard’s shoulders sag and inwardly cursed Fidel for being on time for work. She greeted Fidel and asked how his dinner had been. 

As soon as polite conversation was over, Camille walked back to her desk. As she passed Richard’s desk, she smiled and said softly, “Yes, I would.”


	3. Erzulie, One Year Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't intended to write more for this story, but a comment from Million Moments gave me an idea. But now it really is finished.

Richard sighed. The chaise longue—he’d learned to call it by its French name—was so much more comfortable than that wicker chair he used to fall asleep in. The music from the Erzulie festival drifted up the hill from the town below. Caribbean music was nice when it wasn’t ear-splittingly loud. Or when a certain person wasn’t trying to get him to dance to it. That last thought brought a chuckle.

“What?”

“Just thinking. Last year, Fidel said Erzulie might find me a better date for this year.”

“And?”

“Do you have to ask?” Richard pulled Camille closer and kissed her.

“I’m glad you didn’t wait a whole year to ask me out.”

“So am I. Do you remember that night?”

“Which night?” Camille asked with a wicked grin.

“No, I don’t mean THAT night. I mean the Erzulie festival a year ago. For a minute, you thought I was your date. I was confused. I mean, there you were looking gorgeous, not that you aren’t gorgeous all the time,” he put his fingers on her lips to stop the inevitable comment. “Yes, even now. But you were all dressed up for a date, and you sat there with _me._ I didn’t realize your misunderstanding until Fidel arrived and then _you_ were confused.”

“I was surprised at first. And you were so sweet, telling me I was stunning—”

“I can’t believe you remember what I said.”

“It wasn’t so much _what_ you said as how you looked at me. I think it was the first time you thought of me as something other than your DS.”

“No. Oh, no. I thought of you in ways that can only be described as unprofessional long before that night. I think that was the first time I let myself slip.”

“And then I was disappointed," said Camille. Seeing Richard’s hurt look, she added, “Not when I thought it _was_ you. I was disappointed when I found out you were going to babysit and it _wasn’t_ you after all.”

“I was a little slow on the uptake. It wasn’t until later that night that I realized you thought I was your date. When I saw you sit down with—what was his name?”

“An _R_ name, I think. Robert? Roger? Rodney?” Camille giggled and added, “I think I called the poor man _Richard_ once or twice. Wishful thinking, I suppose.”

“I looked at you with him, and there I was, book in hand, off to babysit. I had promised, but I didn’t want to go.”

“The way you looked at me as you were leaving,” Camille sighed. “I think you had me at that look. I was tempted to leave my date and offer to help you babysit Rosie. If I could have thought of a way to do that without my mother killing me, I would have.”

“Well, you’re my date for tonight and for all the Erzulie festivals to come. I know Maman wasn’t entirely pleased. But I think she will forgive you—us—anything now.” Richard reached down and rested his hand on Camille’s no-longer flat abdomen. “What a difference a year makes. Last year, I had a date with a book. This year, I’m with my stunningly gorgeous wife. And next year, I might have a date with two gorgeous women.”

“Or I’ll have a date with two handsome men.” Camille snuggled into Richard’s embrace.

“You know,” Richard mused, “That day in the station, when I started to ask you if you’d go out with me, you said yes.”

“Of course I did.”

“But you didn’t know what I was going to ask. I mean, there was a likely question, but I might have asked you _anything.”_

“Richard, I think by know you must know that my answer to _anything_ you want will be yes. Although,” she placed her hand on top of Richard’s. “Soon I will have to start saying no. So, in honor of Erzulie, I suggest we see how many yesses we can have tonight while we still can.”

From wherever it is that voodoo goddesses live, Erzulie smiled at the couple. She’d seldom been so thoroughly honored.


End file.
